


runaway

by orphan_account



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Divorce, F/M, Foster Care, Friends to Lovers, Small Towns, The Farm (Riverdale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24640495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Forsythe Pendleton Jones the third, also known as 'Jughead' hated his home life.His parents weren't able to take care of themselves anymore let alone Jughead so at 16 years old he runs away and meets the most stunning girl he'd ever laid eyes on.
Relationships: Alice Cooper/Hal Cooper, Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Cheryl Blossom/Veronica Lodge, FP Jones II/Gladys Jones, Fred Andrews/Mary Andrews, Minor or Background Relationship(s), bughead
Kudos: 7





	runaway

I’m standing in the concrete driveway leading up to the house, staring at the front door with a dirty sleeping bag slung over my shoulder, a grime covered face, and an overwhelming sense of relief. I’m in the exact place I had been the last time I was here, only two weeks ago, though it feels like it’s been an eternity. I notice the light breeze blowing through my now unkempt hair. I also notice the stuffiness of the air and the loud street noises, so different from the freshness and the peaceful silence I’d grown accustomed to these past couple weeks.

-

It was the first day of summer when my parents told me they were getting a divorce. Of course, I’d been expecting something bad to happen; their fighting had been getting more frequent and aggressive than it had ever been before. I could hear their shouting all the way from my bedroom some nights. My parents denied it, but I knew the cause of all the arguing was my mother’s miscarriage two years ago. My parents didn’t take it well, and it caused a rift to form between them. Things were never the same after that. My parents’ apologies and condolences didn’t mean anything to me; the day they told me, I locked the door to my room and cried silently on my bed for the rest of the afternoon until I fell asleep. My dad moved out of the house three days later. When they broke the news to me, I was distraught, but him leaving made it ten times more real.

As I watched his old, broken-down car glide out of the driveway, I started to wonder at how much this was going to change my life; I started to think about how my parents were going to treat each other now that they weren’t together, about what this meant for both my parents’ futures, about when I would live with who, and about what others would think of my family once they found out about the divorce. After the feeling of sadness started to wear off, I started to experience anger. Anger towards the world, towards my parents, and especially towards myself for having no control whatsoever over the situation.

One night, about a month later, my dad came back to the house we once all shared, the smell of alcohol on his breath. He walked through the front door, a beer bottle in hand, and staggered into the living room. My mom, who had been watching the news a few minutes before, told him to call a taxi to take him home, but my father refused. They began arguing like they used to, my dad yelling at my mom for ruining everything between them, and my mom angry with him for coming to the house drunk while I was there. My dad started to kick chairs and tables over and to throw objects across the room, the impact of them hitting the wall shattering them into thousands of little pieces that scattered all over the floor. “Stop!” I yelled at him in desperation, my hands shaking. “You’re acting crazy, you’re going to hurt someone!” “Just shhhhhut up...the both of ya’! You…ya’ sound just like your crazy m-m-m-mother, goin’ ’round tellin’ me...tellin’ me whatta do!” he stuttered, jabbing a finger to my chest. His teeth were bared like a rabid dog and he had one of those crazed looks in his blue-green eyes, so similar to my own. I’d never seen him act this way, and it scared me. “Well, I’d much rather be like her than you, seeing how you’re acting at the moment!” I shouted back angrily. The second the last words came out of my mouth, I heard my mom scream as he pushed me with both hands, sending me falling to the ground. My head hit the ground hard; I could see little black spots swimming in my vision, making me dizzy. I got up quickly, despite the searing pain in the back of my head, trying to catch my breath.

I turned and ran through the hallway to my room, slamming the door behind me before either of my parents could call me back. I noticed warm tears streaming down my face and my hot, heavy breathing. I couldn’t handle my parents’ insanity any longer. That’s when I made the decision to run away. I decided to leave in the two hours following the fight. I packed a couple pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts, a sweatshirt, some warm socks, matches, a flashlight, and money in a light-weight sleeping bag. Once I was sure my mother was asleep, I snuck into the kitchen and grabbed as much dry, long-lasting food and water as I could fit in with the rest of my things. I figured once I got my life on track, I would get a job to pay for food and shelter, but for the time being, I was going to have to rely on the food and money I was bringing with me. I was planning on going to live with a relative or a friend who was willing to take care of me until my eighteenth birthday, which was only a year and a half away, though I didn’t know who yet since my parents had cut all ties with the rest of our family a long time ago. I climbed out through my bedroom window so my mom wouldn’t be able to hear me since it made a loud creaking noise every time I opened the front door. I’d left a note on my bed for her, explaining my situation and my reasons for leaving, and telling her not to come after me. I hoped she would understand, though I didn’t think it would bother my father as much for me to leave as it would for her.

I stood in front of my home for what I thought to be the last time. We weren’t rich, but we kept our place in good shape. Despite several cracks in the cream-colored walls and the brown, dead grass in the front yard, we made sure to keep it nice. As I looked down at the road in front of me, I had to ask myself...was I doing the right thing? But then I remembered the sound of my parents’ constant shouting and arguing, slowly driving me crazy; it was time to go. I spent the next few days, following the main road out of town. Cars stopped by occasionally to give me a ride. To my surprise, they never asked any questions. They knew I wasn’t of age, and they didn’t want to intrude on my situation. I was grateful for it; I didn’t want to have to explain that I left home to get away from my parents, some of the only family I had. I spent the nights sleeping on the side of the road, far away enough to be free of the danger of being run over, or of being seen by cars driving by.

On my fourth day on the run, I found an empty, rundown barn off the side of the road. I decided I’d stake out there until I ran out of food or got kicked out by the owner, once or if they found me. I made myself a bed of hay in an empty corner in the barn’s loft where it was warmest and laid out my sleeping bag over it to make it more comfortable for me to sleep on. The barn was large: it was around thirty feet wide and forty-five feet long and contained eight stalls, four on either side. It’s walls were made of what I guessed to be either oak or chestnut, rotting away after years of rain and lack of care.

The barn smelled musty and of decaying hay, and it was dark inside, the only light coming from a few small windows and a kerosene lamp I’d found in one of the storage boxes that filled the loft. During the day, the barn was nice and cool, but at night it got so cold I had to put on almost every single piece of clothing I brought with me and had to wrap myself with the sleeping bag to keep myself warm. After a week of camping out in the barn, I noticed I was beginning to run out of food, though I’d been careful to eat as little as I could so I could save as much as possible.

The next day, I decided to walk a few miles down the road, hoping to find a gas station to buy myself some more food. To my luck, I fell upon one only three miles away from the barn. I walked in with my head down low, trying to hide my dirty face so as to not raise any questions. I grabbed a few handfuls of protein bars and beef jerky, five large water bottles and a couple fruits that would last for a few days, and dumped it all on the counter. My eyes flickered up for a few seconds to look at the shopkeeper, a tall, middle aged man with a scruffy, brown beard, and beady eyes. When he saw all the food I was going to buy and my filthy face, he narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously.

“Where you coming from, son?” he asked me with a gruff voice. While trying to look as innocent as possible, I answered “I’m staying in my uncle’s barn, the one a few miles down the road. I just came to get some more food,” I nodded towards the mound of protein bars, beef jerky, and whatever else I’d dumped onto the counter. I realized my story wasn’t very believable, but it was the best I could come up with in the moment. “You stayin’ in the barn a few miles down? You Hal Cooper's nephew?” he questioned. I nodded, a bead of sweat rolling down my forehead. “Yes, sir,” I replied. He chuckled a little to himself . “Well, I don’t have much of a memory, but I think I’d remember it if I let a kid stay in my barn, especially if that kid was my nephew,” he answered with a knowing smile. I just stood there, processing what he was saying. “Now listen to me kid,” his smile vanished, “I don’t want you stayin’ in my barn any longer, you hear me? Now take this stuff and move along, or I’ll have to call the cops.” I stared at him for a few short seconds, grabbed all the food, and stuffed it all into my sleeping bag, wasting no time.

Right as I was about to step outside, he called out “Wait a second,” I froze and and turned around slowly to face him. He frowned at me, “You have anywhere to stay?” Wasn’t my answer obvious? “No, not really,” I said. “You don’t look eighteen to me. Where are your parents?” I looked down at my feet, not wanting to tell him my situation. “Aaaah,” he said in understanding. “You’re a runaway.” I continued to look at the dusty, white floor. “Look at me, kid,” I looked up at his eyes. “You’re going to find yourself in real trouble if you don’t figure this out soon. How long have you been gone?” I didn't want to answer him. He looked at me expectantly. “Almost two weeks, I guess.” “Do your parents know you’re okay?” “No, they don't know anything.” I could see the wheels turning inside his head as he looked at me intently. “Are your parents bad people?” I didn’t know how to answer that one. I didn’t want to get my parents in trouble. I had to think about it for a minute before I could answer. “They’re not bad people, they’re just too unhappy to be able to take care of me anymore.” “Well then, how do you think your leaving will make them any happier?” I continued to stare at him. “From what I understand, you have three choices here: I let you walk right out of this shop and never see your face again, I call child protective services to come pick you up, or I drive you home myself.” I considered this.

I’d never really thought about the consequences that my leaving would have. I was too focused at first on escaping the anguish I was feeling to be able to face the reality of the situation. I wasn’t old enough to live on my own. I was a complete mess; I wasn’t eating enough, I was exhausted, and if I faced the truth, I missed my parents, and I was sure they were terribly worried about me. They had problems, but I knew that didn’t mean they didn’t care about me. They were my family. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Bring me home.”

**Author's Note:**

> do you guys want a second chapter? let me know in the comments! :)


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